


I'm A Professional Best Friend

by grappel



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Platonic Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:10:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4578300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grappel/pseuds/grappel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An exploration of Hawke and Varric's relationship: platonic, romantic, sexual, and otherwise. <br/>A collection of drabbles and scenarios that expand on how and why they're as close as they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thesis

The truth is, Hawke and Varric are in love. They would spend nights together with only each other's company and talk until the sun rose. Sharing a bed became commonplace, and they had developed the habit of keeping clothes at the other's residence. Visiting uninvited would be the highlight of their day rather than a nuisance. When they talked in public, their speech was laden with snide remarks and wit, but in more private settings they were nothing but earnest to each other. Small talk melts into small confessions. Opinions and beliefs transform over time to childhood stories and loud laughter. The number of similarities between the blonde dwarven man and the black-haired woman were something to laugh about, after all. When crowds got thick, they could easily slip into each other's personal space without a second thought. Their touch was neither comforting nor surprising, placing a hand on each other's shoulder felt the same as grabbing their own shoulder. In battle, they could quickly duck out of each other's way and jump to the other's defense without speaking a single word. When Hawke slipped into the shadows, Varric could always tell where she was lurking. Likewise, even with her back turned to him, Hawke could point to exactly where Varric was aiming Bianca. 

Over time, their companions noticed they had picked up each other's quirks and habits. Hawke and Varric could mirror each other's body language perfectly and had even adopted each other's vocabulary and speech patterns. They relished the moments they noticed each other in their speech. Hawke would smile to herself when she found herself using Varric's sideways nod when considering her options, much like how he would tilt his head while working over a draft. Similarly, Varric loved the way he had learned to smile or smirk when frustrated, a habit he learned from Hawke. 

Years spending countless days, nights, fights, and battles together had left carvings into each other's personality that would never be removed. They had worn deep, comfortable, grooves into each other that could not fill, even in the other's absence. 

Calling themselves friends seemed insufficient, but they were not lovers. Romantic interests and complications outside of the two of them both kept them apart and pushed them together. What they had was an unwavering and unbreakable bond. As if by gravity or some invisible hand, they were always pulled towards each other, even from the beginning. Varric scoffed at the idea of soul mates. It was a romantic notion, but it did not exist outside of stories. Hawke once said it seemed as if the Maker had designed them for each other ages before their time, and they had just been waiting to meet all this time. Even though Varric laughed and turned down the idea, it was still something he found himself thinking about often.


	2. Personal Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever met those friends who were so playfully flirty you couldn't tell if they were serious or not? Hawke and Varric are those friends.

Once, while all of Kirkwall's finest were gathered in the Hanged Man, Hawke kicked her legs up into Varric's lap. Without even looking away from Merrill, to whom he was telling a story, he grabbed her legs and pulled them closer to himself so they wouldn't fall off of his short thighs. Even though this earned a couple of looks from the Dalish elf and Isabela, it wasn't until Varric began to mindlessly draw circles into the exposed skin of Hawke's ankle with his thumb til Isabela spoke up.   
"You two act like newlyweds, can't you keep your hands off of each other?"  
Varric only laughed and shrugged, "You're not exactly a shining example of chastity and restraint, Rivaini."   
"Besides!" Hawke chided, "Have you seen this man? Who could resist..." She purred playfully, running a hand down his chest.   
When their glances met they laughed again, but their faces were noticeably more flushed now than before. Regardless, they went right back to how they were, Hawke's legs in Varric's lap, his clever hands tracing light patterns into her calves.   
Isabela snickered, watching the two was both heartwarming and infuriating. A small part of her wanted to see them get together and get it over with, on the other hand, watching them deny themselves, joke, and burn slowly on the inside appealed to her love of chaos. 

Later that evening, after their other companions had called it a night and left for their homes and beds, Varric and Hawke had retreated to his suite. They lounged on the bed and shared the same comfortable touch: shoulders pressed together and her leg carelessly tossed over his. They talked of mercenaries and a particular member of the Merchant's Guild that had been giving Varric grief recently. This continued until Hawke's other leg found itself in Varric's lap as well, and she was curled towards him, resting her head on his shoulder. By the time his hand found its way to the small of her back, conversation had tapered off entirely. For a moment they sat in silence, half dressed and flushed from heat and alcohol.  
"Varric." She barked suddenly, causing him to startle.   
Hawke's gaze was sharp and heavy, not unlike the blades she kept strapped to her shoulders.  
"I... yeah?"   
"I would do you" She stated. Flat, simple, unimpressed, it was as if she was complimenting his hair. Varric could only sit in the heavy silence for a moment. A joke died on his tongue as he fought his initial reaction to make light of the situation. Hawke's face was so intense he dared not reply with wit.   
Instead he could only rub the back of his neck and let his head fall back. Embarrassment began to creep across his nose and cheeks, but there were no answers on the ceiling.   
"Yeah, I get it. I would do you too Hawke."   
She nodded, leaned back and away from him and stared at the wall across from her. Suspense laid thick in the room now, each waiting for the other to move.   
Hawke was the first to speak, "Let's not though. Maybe one day, but, not today."   
Her voice was musing and thoughtful, but he had a feeling that she had made this decision a long time ago. Regardless, relief washed over him and he pulled her into his chest again.   
It was not fear of change or awkwardness that kept them apart, but rather, they did not wish to lose the comfort they found in each other now.


	3. Shit, Hawke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Responsibilities are the worst

“Well-!“ Hawke stammered, her fists tightening at her sides. “I can’t fucking do all of it, now can I?” She exclaimed, volume explosive and her cheeks fiery red. Leandra was taken aback for a moment, but Hawke had stormed out, slamming the door loudly behind her before her mother had a chance to respond. Varric waited for her just outside the estate, he leaned against the moss covered wall with an ankle crossed over the other. He cradled Bianca in one arm, the other gloved hand smoothing over the strings that were beginning to fray slightly. The sudden slam caused him to jump upright, one hand landing on Bianca’s grip and the other flying to his quiver for a bolt. Once he saw Hawke, only his weapon relaxed. He had never seen her so visibly upset before. Her brows furrowed low over her eyes, casting a shadow across her whole face. Her jaw was clenched so tightly the tendons and muscles around her temples were pulsing, and he was surprised the cobblestones under her feet weren’t shattering.   
“Shit, Hawke, what happened?” He asked, scrambling to catch up with her. By the time his short legs had picked up a speed to match hers, she had already turned into a thin side road. When he followed suit he saw her stop suddenly, glance over her shoulder and snarl in a way that made his blood run cold.   
“What the fuck do you want?” she spit. He stood there for a moment, in shock, and suddenly feeling very trapped in this enclosed space with what appeared to be a demon. He slowly raised his hands to show he meant no harm and took a cautious step forward, but her snarl only deepened, her gaze only grew colder. He refused to be scared away, however, and continued to approach her.   
“I just want to know if you’re okay, Hawke.” He paused, when he couldn’t recognize a change he forced a smirk for her sake, “Wondering if you’ve got a new job for Bianca and I?”   
He wasn’t sure how she’d take to his snark at this point, but he was willing to try anything to see this cornered animal act drop.   
Hawke felt the sudden and intense desire to move. A tingle of adrenaline in her joints that was telling her she needed to be moving, climbing, running, anything. Her gaze remained locked on Varric, framed on either side with tall brick walls, and one of Hightown’s cobbled streets behind him. She could try to run past him, but he would probably grab her as she went by. Even if she managed to wrestle free of him, he knew these streets far better than she and would find her in a heartbeat. Frustrated, defeated, and trapped, she pressed her lips together in a tight line and turned her back to him. A growl started low in her throat, eventually ripping its way up and out in a high-pitched, gravelly, scream. Short as it was, it only increased the boiling sensation under her skin. Frantically she pulled at her hair, the feeling of the strands pulling at her fingernails only made her more aggravated. She paced quickly, in a tight circle, and eventually let her eyes settle on the wall in front of her. Without thinking she struck out quickly, bone on brick, sending a tremor up her entire arm and causing it to ache. She waited, savoring the feeling of something other than the pent up need to move, then punched again with the other fist. Her knuckles hurt, she vaguely registered that they were bleeding, but the rush of nerves and adrenaline in her joints only pushed her to keep going.   
“Hawke!” she ignored it, didn’t even recognize the voice, and let another punch fly at the now glistening red wall. “Shit, Hawke, stop!” Her next fist was caught halfway, before it made contact with the stone. She stared at her hand, confused, then followed the glove up its arm and to its owner. Varric looked furious. Her skin prickled all over and she felt the boiling sensation rise in her chest once again. All she could register was that she was mad, but could come up with no response to his yell and touch. She glared down at his face, cursing every feature, but had no intention to move.   
Once Varric felt the muscles in her arm relax slightly he pulled her hand to his face, examining the damage to the knuckles. They were scraped, bad, so he moved the fingers and joints experimentally. Hawke winced, but otherwise watched in silent fascination. Or maybe it was confusion. Varric shook his head, and grabbed the other hand. She didn’t protest. It was bloodier than the other, but the bones also seemed intact on this one. It would hurt like a bitch for a long time, but simple salves could patch it up for now.   
“Stay still…” He mumbled, his voice a low rumble, while he pulled a small bottle and cloth from his coat pocket.   
Hawke obeyed, standing tense, but letting her arms drop limply. Varric used the small cloth, one she had seen him use to care for Bianca, to dab a silvery liquid from the bottle and apply it to her split knuckles. She hissed and jerked her hand back at the sting, but Varric was expecting it, and his grip tightened to keep her hand where he needed it.   
“It’s going to hurt. A lot. You made a stupid decision, so now you get to deal with what you did to yourself,” he swiped the pad of his thumb over a knuckle, knocking a small pebble free from the bloody surface, and causing her to gasp in pain. “But you also get to deal with what I’m going to do about it.” This last addition was muttered to himself, but Hawke could hear him clearly. She knew she would be ashamed of this later, but was currently more concerned with having more medicine applied to her hands. While it stung initially, after a moment it created a cold and numbing sensation that soothed the burning. She sighed through her nose when he finished cleaning the worst of the debris out of her other hand and applied copious amounts of the shimmery ointment. Satisfied with his work, he let her hands drop and put away his things.   
“Shit, Hawke.” He sighed, letting his forehead drop into his hands.   
He stood like that for a long time, Hawke shifted her weight and examined her hands. They felt fine now. Her joints were okay, and the adrenaline and anger bubbling in her ribcage was dissipating.   
Varric sighed, paced, rubbed his face as if he were trying to wash off the frustration, and finally settled in front of her with his arms crossed across his chest.   
“Do you realize what you put me through when you do stuff like this?”   
“Varric, I-“   
His hand shot up, stopping her. “You have got to take care of yourself Hawke,” I can’t stand to see you this way. He bit his tongue before he could finish, letting his unfinished thought bounce in his mind for a moment. He grabbed her hands again. Rather than examining the wounds on it though, he clasped it between his. Even bloody, bruised, and with the fingernails haphazardly torn off at different lengths, they were beautiful. Their hands were roughly the same size, but his wider palms blanketed hers easily.   
“I will always be here to help you back up, but that won’t do a whole lot of good if you keep throwing yourself back on the ground.” His mouth fumbled for a second around the beginning of another sentence, but he eventually settled on a silent stare. She tried to hold his amber gaze as long as possible, but blinked away after a quick moment.   
She gently pulled her hand from his and resisted the urge to collapse in his arms, broken and weary. She wanted so desperately for him to just take care of her, and she knew he would if she asked, but her pride kept her standing upright.  
“I’m sorry Varric. The little things pile up, you know?” She allowed herself a lazy smile, “Hawke go find my son, Hawke save my wife, Hawke rebuild Kirkwall… And it’s ridiculous and I think I love it but, when I can’t do one of those things, it feels awful. I know I should allow myself failure every now and then, but…” She shook her head, forgetting what she had intentionally meant to communicate.  
“Sorry, sorry, it must be pretty depressing to see The Champion admit they just want a break.”   
Hawke startled when Varric laughed. A loud, hand clapped to his bare chest, eyes closed, genuine laugh.   
“Hawke! It’s okay! You’re a human, and we all understand that humans are just too long and squishy to keep performing death-dying feats constanly! We’re not all expecting you to find another Arishok to kill every day, and you don’t have to go running off to find every stolen ring and lost pet the second someone asks it of you. You can just allow yourself time to be a person, is what I’m getting at.” His wide smile already wrinkled the corners of his eyes, but only grew when he noticed Hawke’s bottom lip tremble.   
“It’s all going to be okay, alright? You’re still going to be the big hero, you’re going to keep saving the day, and you can still do all that while letting yourself have a day where you and I just get absolutely wasted.”   
Hawke rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes, smudging away the start of tears. Right before he reached out to comfort her again, he saw a flash of white from between her wine-colored lips.  
She smiled at him, eyes still glistening from tears that almost were, and nodded slowly.   
“That sounds wonderful."

**Author's Note:**

> This is really an outlet for all the prompts and ideas I've gotten for these two.   
> This particular work won't include AU's, those will be posted in a different work.   
> Feel free to send me prompts/ideas/scenarios to include


End file.
